


Welcome Home, Marine.

by kotabear24



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-17 05:09:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kotabear24/pseuds/kotabear24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Louis gets to come home early.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome Home, Marine.

Gunnery Sergeant Louis Tomlinson surveyed the remaining marines, strapped into their seats on the Air Force-owned C-17. The men were all in immaculate condition, having been ordered to complete their Three ‘S’s (Shit, Shower, Shave) hours before boarding the plane. The minute the pilot touched down, a slightly younger E-7 Louis served with, named Iuliano, approached him crisply.

Louis stood tall, remembering his rank although at the time, it didn’t matter to him. “Iuliano,” Louis greeted quietly. Iuliano stood tall and straight in response, and Louis gave a small smile, breaking the tension.

“Gunny,” Iuliano began. “I’m aware Obama repealed the ‘Don’t Ask; Don’t Tell’ Policy for all branches-"

“Are you propositioning me, Iuliano?” Louis cut in with an amused smile, allowing his stance to droop into one more informal.

Iuliano copied Louis’ body language, laughing outright, “I don’t think my wife and children would approve of it, Tomlinson.” Louis chuckled with the man, having formed a great sense of camaraderie with him during Desert Wildfire, and Iuliano continued, “Some of the men were thinking - and take this as no infringement, of course the Fifth still applies - and I decided to put a stop to the whisperings and solve the question once and for all so the PFC’s would shut the hell up.”

The men boarded the C-17, named Poise, and Louis prompted the man, who sat next to him, to continue.

“Are you homosexual?”

Louis had liked Iuliano in combat for his directness and need to know him in order to serve by his side. But in the confines of a plane (yes, it was huge, but filled with an entire flight of Grunts, Gunners, Privates, and Sergeants, there wasn’t much wiggle room), he wasn’t sure if he liked the Gunner much. He shifted uncomfortably, and the thought of his boyfriend entered his mind.

As his bright eyes, uncontrollable hair that would never work in the military, his razor-sharp jawline, his porn-star mouth, his dimples - those dimples, _Jesus_ \- and his smile - _Louis_ ’ smile - filled Louis’ eyes, though, all Louis could do was smile. Iuliano laughed openly at Louis’ face, bringing the older Gunnery Sergeant back to the plane and out of his bedroom.

“Is that, uhm, a yes, Gunner Sergeant Tomlinson?” Iuliano laughed, “Or are you thinking of a girlfriend who would be very offended right now?”

Louis laughed back, imagining the look on Harry’s face at being referred to a girl. “No, Guns,” Louis chuckled, “I’ve not got a girlfriend. And, between you and I, I’m in a very committed relationship - but I’ll handle Infantry,” he said somewhat seriously, referring to the Grunts Iuliano had mentioned earlier.

Iuliano nodded, hesitating before he blurted out, “It doesn’t matter to me, you know. I mean, if he’s what you fight for, then at least you’re brave enough to fight for him.”

Louis was touched, gave a manly nod, and turned to face his feet, gripping his straps as the C-17 flew into a patch of turbulence, remembering the past seventeen months without his boyfriend.

 

\---

 

Around six thousand miles away, Harry Styles sat at his desk. He was technically on call, but his radio was turned down so low he couldn’t even hear the hum of power. Everything was quiet. Harry needed quiet - his house was quiet, his car was quiet, his office was quiet - because eight months ago, he was watching the news, and footage of an explosion in Al-Kut, where his boyfriend was currently stationed, had rocked his shitty little apartment. Harry hadn't turned the TV on or listened to news since. He was checking his e-mail with tired eyes, and straightened up when he saw he had one from his boyfriend.

 

_Hey baby, Great news! Be at the DAFB flight line at 0900, local. Mission completed 27days early. WE’RE COMING HOME!! –BB Tommo_

 

Harry screamed. Loudly. Like a girl. His partner and two other cops burst through the door, guns at the ready, and Harry put his hands up. Dropping their firearms and clicking them onto safety, Officer Peazer’s heart tightened in horror as she saw her partner in tears. Did Louis get hit?

But Harry was jumping from his desk, running to her, and pulling her into a hug - still screaming, mind - and she relaxed. Harry didn’t do sympathy-touches; this had to be good news. She hugged him back, and once he released her, she clamped a hand over his mouth. He sobered up just enough, and she laughed in shock and confusion when she noticed the tears were running freely down Harry’s cheeks.

Officer Payne grabbed Harry’s shoulder, and Malik gave the room a wary once-over for good measure before walking closer to do the same.

“What is it, Styles?” Payne said, shaking the younger officer. Harry opened his mouth under Peazer’s hand, and she moved it so he could talk. But all that came out was a scream.

“Louis! Louis, he’s - he’s coming home!” He finally managed out. All three officers laughed excitedly, and Zayn, disregarding every rule known to cop, grabbed Harry’s radio off his desk and sent a radio to Horan, who was currently in mid-chase to let him know. They all laughed as Harry and Danielle’s radios went off, letting them hear an Irish swear word, followed by, “Fuck yes - OI, FUCKER! -  before static took over again.

“When is he coming, Harry?!” Danielle squealed. Harry checked his watch and gasped, “Thirty minutes!”

Four minutes later, Chief Cowell found his two rookie officers, Peazer and Styles, running through the building, guns slung on their hips and legs, keys in hand and shouting at people to ‘Get the fuck out of the way!’. He nodded his head in pride - he’d known the two would make good, professional policemen.

“For fuck’s sake, Harry, throw on the lights!” Danielle shouted at Harry sped and wove through cars. He laughed and muttered a quick apology before turning his lights on, loving the way other civilians got out of the way for him behind the wheel.

The gate guard opened another lane for Harry’s car, a bit confused but comforted as she glimpsed the black and gold of a badge her way as he sped through.

Harry and Danielle lurched forward, their seatbelts cutting off their lungs’ air supply as Harry brought the car to a screeching halt in front of the flight line. The troops were coming off the huge plane, the higher ranks last, and Harry sighed in relief as he barely glimpsed the absence of enough stripes on the uniforms, knowing Louis would be coming soon, but hadn’t yet.

The crowd dispersed, giving the cops room to the front, and muttered once they realized the officers were there for someone. Danielle shot looks at the dependents who muttered about Harry, not in the mood to be tolerant. Harry let out a loud whoop as he saw the E-7’s and E-8’s, knowing his Gunnery Sergeant boyfriend was in that row of proud-standing Marines, staring straight ahead as he marched.

He was about to see his boyfriend, after seventeen months.

 

Louis stood at attention, waiting for the troop leader to dismiss them. Once he did, he walked (albeit, very quickly) to where his boyfriend and his partner stood, only running at the last minute. Danielle had backed off a bit, and Louis quickly jumped into Harry’s arms, wrapping his arms and legs around his taller, sturdier boyfriend. Forgetting about professionalism, and about dealing discreetly with the Grunts, he brought his mouth to Harry’s in a passionate kiss, ignoring the shudders of Harry’s body as the younger man cried with months and months of pent-up emotion.

Louis felt his own tears forming and tucked his face into Harry’s neck and shoulder, whispering into his neck, “I’ve missed you so much,” before the lump in his throat became unbearable and he felt a sob wrack his body. Harry’s arms tightened around him, and Louis tightened his arms and legs in response, never wanting to be separated from his boyfriend ever again.

Louis kissed up Harry’s neck, across his jawline, and cheeks, and finally, found his lips. Harry kissed him back without hesitation, sucking Louis’ lip into his mouth and running his rough tongue over it. Louis’ hands framed Harry’s face tightly, clutching, rubbing his face with his thumbs, and Louis ignored that the kiss was shaky and ridiculous, due to their tears and sobs combined.

Harry nestled his face against Louis’ cheek once the kiss ended, whispering in his ear, “What about your troop?”

Louis was shocked, but way too complacent to move from his spot, and he answered, “Haven’t you heard on the news? President Obama repealed the ‘Don’t Ask; Don’t Tell’ Policy. I can shout to the world that Harry Styles is my boyfriend of eight years!” Louis crowed the last bit, moving his head away from Harry’s ears and screaming at the sky. People looked, but Harry just laughed with joy and brought Louis’ chest back so he could cradle his head on it.

Louis allowed himself to be guided, kissing the top of Harry’s curly brown mop, running fingers through it happily, delighted it was still as soft as it had been when he’d left.

Seventeen months. Seventeen months since he’d seen his boyfriend properly, in 3 dimensions, knowing he was real and not just a dream his combat-exhausted mind came up with for hope. Louis cried in earnest now, clutching Harry to himself and Harry did the same, fingers digging into Louis’ back as Harry fisted Louis’ desert uniform, loving the way it looked and never wanting to see the damn thing again.

Louis unwrapped his legs and Harry let him slide to the ground. Louis’ face was tilted up, and Harry’s down, but the two didn’t kiss, opting instead to gaze at each other. Louis heard an oh-so-familiar squeak of adoration, and looked over to see Harry’s partner and close friend, Danielle, off a few feet, gazing tearfully at the couple. Letting go of Harry, he spread his arms and Danielle ran over to him, hugging him tight.

Louis squeezed back, glad he didn’t have to miss this hilarious and compassionate - and ferociously efficient - policeman anymore. They had been close - Louis had grown close with all of Harry’s co-workers - and Louis had missed her greatly.

“Horan and Calder were mid-chase when Harry got the news,” she whispered, knowing Louis would want to know, “and Payne and Malik were stuck being paper bitches, after Malik had a bit of - what had Cowell said? - cowboy syndrome on their last case.” Louis laughed, because that sounded like something Zayn would do, and let go of Danielle, looking back at Harry. His eyes got a bit wider when he saw that Harry had been pulled away a few feet by Gunner Iuliano.

 

Harry watched with a fond smile as his partner and - well - _partner_ hugged tightly, Danielle wiping tears from her eyes daintily and whispering in Louis’ ear. Just as Louis released Danielle, Harry felt a tap at his shoulder, and looked over to see a man, a bit shorter than himself, but much stockier, standing straight-backed and regarding him seriously. Behind him was a beautiful woman, about Harry’s age, he guessed, and two girls in red, white, and blue dresses, hair done up prettily and decorated with bows, clutching at their father’s legs.

Harry glanced at the man’s tag, reading Iuliano, and noticed he was an E-7, like Louis. He smiled then, knowing this must be the comrade Louis had vaguely and muddily - because names and ranks were not allowed for Louis, just like cases were classified for Harry - mentioned in e-mails. Sticking his hand out, Harry introduced himself. “Officer Harry Styles,” he said with a grin.

“Gunnery Sergeant Marcus Iuliano,” the man said with an easy-going smile, “I fought at your - partner’s - side for the seventeen months overseas. Great man,” he said sincerely.

Harry nodded, releasing the man’s firm grip and smiled bigger. “Glad to hear he didn’t annoy you - he’s got a mouth on him. Never shuts up, that man,” he laughed.

Marcus laughed, too, and leaned in closer to Harry, his voice quieting conspiratorially . “I’m glad I’m not the only one who noticed that!” He said before throwing his head back and laughing. “Sergeant Tomlinson confided in me a few hours ago of your relationship,” he mentioned politely, and Harry’s face drained a bit and he fought to keep his smile on his face. “I wanted to congratulate you,” the man continued, oblivious to the change in Harry.

Harry was shocked, but smiled openly. “Congratulate me? Oh, sir, I believe you and your troop have earned far more congratulations and honor than I have,” he began, but Marcus cut him off.

“No, the families suffer the most.” Harry’s heart burst at Marcus’ acknowledgement of Harry as Louis’ family. “Sergeant Tomlinson fought for you, Harry,” he said earnestly. “And he’s a damn good marine. So whatever you’re doing to make him fight the way he did, don’t ever stop.”

Harry’s mouth dropped softly and he gasped quietly before nodding. “Tha-thank you, Sergeant Iuliano. I appreciate it.”

“So do I,” the man replied. “Your partner saved my ass a few times - he’s getting a medal of honor, if I hear correctly - and he did it all for you. He also mentioned he has no other kin?” Harry nodded. “That makes you the sole reason for his bravery and actions. Thank you for being his intention of security.” With that, Gunnery Sergeant Marcus Iuliano shook Harry’s hand again and, wrapping an arm around his wife’s shoulder, turned and walked away, pressing a kiss to his wife’s temple.

“Harry?” Louis said hesitantly in his ear. Harry felt arms wrapping around his waist and he turned around in Louis’ embrace, facing his older boyfriend with a proud smile.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Welcome home, Marine.”


End file.
